


all-nighter

by silkscrub



Category: Marvel Ultimate Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018)
Genre: Ganke is AMAZING, Ganke is a good roommate, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Miles Morales Needs a Hug, One Shot, Sony and marvel eat my ass, and he fucking gets one, mild whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:07:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23557315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silkscrub/pseuds/silkscrub
Relationships: Ganke Lee/Miles Morales
Comments: 3
Kudos: 102





	all-nighter

"Get up."

Miles squints immediately against the blinding, golden sunlight that beams through his window. It's a stark contrast to the peachy, dawn glow that had seen him to bed. 

"C'mon, get up." A shadow slides over his vision. His roommate's silhouette is heavily obscured by the light behind him. Absently, dazedly, Miles accepts a guiding pull upward from Ganke's arm. His world shifts. 

As Miles yawns and feels the drag of premature wakefulness seep into his muscles, there's the sound of Ganke getting ready for school, gathering his books and dumping them in his bag. He rushes back and forth across the room with the practical urgency of a normal student late for class. But Miles doesn't feel normal at all, in this moment. He feels fully transcended from normal. And not in the healthy way he learned from the other Spider-People.

Instead, Miles feels like he's floating, hardly present. He doesn't remember falling asleep, or even being asleep, for that matter, but fatigue is so deeply engraved in his bones that he must've crashed. And it backfired; he feels comprehensively worse than when he first got to Visions that morning. His legs wobble when he stands, his grip faint on the frame of their bunk. He inhales a deep, deliberate breath, blinks rapidly to clear his eyes of their dryness. A tightness in his chest only confirms the dreadful discrepancy: an inundated body fighting against the inevitably waking mind.

So it takes Miles a moment, understandably, before he realizes he's didn't sleep in his own bed. He cringes.

"Crap, dude," he mutters, apologetic, to a busily-packing Ganke. "I didn't mean to boot you out. I just--"

"Take off your suit. Get dressed." Ganke interrupts. Miles is compliant, if embarrassed. He wonders if this is the beginning of a slow inversion of their relationship. Of Ganke's inevitable revelation that Spider-Man is, in fact, an unreliable, inconsiderate mess of a roommate. 

"Just stop...don't worry about me. Don't be late because of me. I'll be fine." Miles is already resigned to his loss. He'll skip first period. He'll deal with Dad later. He'll bear the brunt of his poor time management any day, just this time after a little bit of REM sleep. It's nice of Ganke for trying to keep him functioning like a normal person, but he's too far gone to try. The exhaustion is unbearable....

But Ganke turns around suddenly, unfazed. "You're going home." he announces.

This is news to Miles. "Huh?"

Ganke tilts his head, expression unreadable. When he lifts his bag, it's Miles'. "You're going home." He repeats, resolute. "Class doesn't start for another hour, if you haven't noticed. I packed for you. And called your Dad. He'll be here in...." He glances at his watch. "Super soon." He gestures towards his computer. "Also, as of fifteen minutes ago, every faculty member at Visions has it on record that you are deeply ill from the flu. You're taking your calc exam at 7:15 tomorrow morning with Harlough. Calleros said she'll email you the homework from today. Stephens too. Rosario will catch you up tomorrow, and for Perry's class, just text Grace and Lucas, and they'll send you the lessons. And homeroom I'll send you later. Obviously" He hands Miles a crisp, folded sheet. "Here's your diagnosis. Just keep it away from your mom, 'cuz she's a healthcare professional. " He says firmly.

In that moment, Miles' deep, raw exhaustion melts into something warm and lovely. The throbbing pain in his head dilutes from a scream into a hum. 

Ganke stands in the doorway, unassuming and diplomatic--the purest, rawest sense of love glowing behind his tired, serious eyes. Miles finds himself drawn forward. They briefly embrace, somewhat awkward as Miles can hardly control his weight. Miles only wishes he was stronger so that he could better squeeze his appreciation.

"Thanks," he breathes, voiceless, extraordinary lameness matched by extraordinary gratitude.

They pull apart, and Ganke brushes the dust off Miles' shoulders and straightens the collar of his jacket.

"Good luck, Spider-Man."


End file.
